Dawn of Light
by Deuceposter
Summary: Freewrite nonsense going over the head canon.
1. Chapter 1

"I know I was never a good father-"

"You were a _horrible_ father."

"-but you will see." The old man sighed heavy, the life of ardor slipping from between his teeth. "A life spent fighting. The Mad King, the Garleans, the Primals…" The old warrior tightened his grip on the sheets.

"I have given her all I had left to give. This old body… it doesn't yet have the energy to execute her will."

"And yet you gave _me_ up."

He looked at her quizzically, unsure of her words. Her old man shook his head, the confused frown accentuated all the more by the battle-scars that marred his stone-like skin. Then it dawned on him-

What _She_ had meant… about how the light must not fade.

"... You heard _Her_? Her call?" The spent elder sat up in his bed, the sudden realization shocking energy back to him. "To hear? To think? To _feel?_ "

Quietly the woman rubbed her arm, avoiding eye contact with her father. It wasn't until he struggled to raise himself from the bed that her piercing green irises peered into him from behind her red-rimmed spectacles.

"Mayhaps-"

The now-frail warrior collapsed back into his sickbed, caught in a daze.

"Then you too, will understand." He spoke with voice as cold and distant as these lands of Coerthas that they had fled to.

"My daughter- my beloved Reeza-"

"Don't you dare-" She gritted her teeth, trying her best to put on a sneer. To remember everything that this man had put her and her mother through. The years of loneliness, watching her mother waste away waiting for his return.

It disgusted her.

Seeing her mother swell with pride whenever they heard news of the Warrior of Light's exploits… yet what was there to show of _him_? Gil, trinkets, the occasional spoil of war and adventure sent back home for them- but all were just placations that couldn't fill the void of his absence. She swore she saw more of his adventuring companions than of her father.

"I did everything in my power to keep you _safe_. I offered _Her_ my everything _except_ you." Her father sighed shrinking once more as his resolve diminished. For once, the man she had always seen as the stoic mountain of sheer willpower, appeared on the verge of crying.

"All I wanted was a life of peace for you and your mother… and yet…" He stared to the ceiling, shaking his head more and more feverishly, trying to deny some truth he had stumbled upon.

"All I can see now is just how… just how natural it looked with that axe in your hands."

He spoke of the time when he had returned to them- before everything went so awry…

Back when she still looked up to him.

Back when he was still her personal hero.

It was a time when the Circle of Knowing were as much family as their own. When she could remember fondly of quietly learning the ways of an adventurer from her father's friends. She was but fifteen springs old, a fledgling by any Eorzean standards. He had let her try and hold aloft his beloved axe- the symbol and tool of his trade. She could barely lift the thing from the ground, yet still, he smiled at her not out of mockery, but pure pride. She remembered swearing that one day she would lift his axe.

Now where were they all? The Scions… the Free Company… Oak, Lohana, and R'Loon?

Dead?

Captured?

Only Alphinaud stood accounted for, but it was his childish naivete that had put them all in this situation.

Did her father abandon them as he had with her and her mother? Had such a trifle as _this_ broken him?

Every new unanswerable question burned in her core. The Beast rose up within…

And she quietly struck it down.

Reeza calmly glided to the armoire set in the corner of the room, casting its wide double doors open. Carefully placed within hung the blood-crimson breastplate, a finely crafted piece made up of interlocking jointed Allagan steel plates- one of his prized possessions. Alongside it lay the matching helmet, greaves, gauntlets…

And _the_ axe.

Ragnarok.

Reese watched wordlessly as his daughter- the lithe-framed yet confident woman she had become- grab hold of his beloved axe.

Lean, powerful muscles that lay hidden underneath her fair skin flexed and strained as Reeza lifted the axe from its stand. Despite the initial difficulty, once the weapon was gripped firmly in both her hands it appeared has natural as when _he_ had wielded it. The arcane flames- the spirit of the weapon itself, had ignited, casting a powerful crimson hue that drowned out the candlelight.

"You claim it as a burden- and yet…" Reeza muttered, not having to hide the disgust on her face for much longer, "-and yet you still used it as an excuse to run away from us."

"So I will take up your axe." She spoke bluntly, terse and emotionless, "Not out of respect for _Her_ call, or _Her_ blessing-" The flames flared as the Beast once again clawed its way in her heart, "-but because _you_ failed. You failed to keep me from this path."

Reeza tried her best to hide the sneer that pulled at her upper lip, to relax into a persona of indifference. She remembered how her father _used_ to look- the _power_ in that stoic gaze of his. When he didn't need _words_.

"I will surpass you." Reeza hastily rested the axe by its head upon the ground and grabbed its harness from the armoire, expertly adjusting it to her size. She made sure never to cast a glance at her father; she could feel that unwavering gaze and she could not bear whatever expression was held upon it.

"You lay there, old man- and you make _sure_ that you live long enough to hear of _my_ tales." She spoke as much to the floor or to the wall as to her father, It mattered not how awkward it would look as she shouldered the harnesses. Nor for how it would appear when a Hyur woman left a Ishgardian noble's house in naught but a blouse and skirt with one of the legendary Zodiac Braves strapped to her back.

Let the nobles of the Pillars gossip and gawk in the dark at her uncouth demeanor.

Let the rabble in the Foundation not question her strength.

Soon all of Eorzea would all be speaking of Reeza Highwind, Lightbringer, Scion, _The_ Warrior of Light.


	2. Chapter 2

Reeza's spirit soared as her soul crystal sang its song of rebellion. Her greatsword clove through the air, its tip tracing a thin streak of ungodly crimson as it arced. The sheer weight of the swing crushed more than it bit as the thick edge of sword slammed into the side of the ancient Allag construct. Though, that was all that was needed to cast the clicking and clattering thing aside and into the wall of the hallway, landing motionless in a crumpled heap.

A second had moved to replace the first, just one more machine amongst a small swarm. Scythe-like claws raked her armor, trying to find a place to cut or puncture, yet the warrior's plate was unscathed. Despite the weight of both arm and armor, Reeza was more than able to pull that massive triangular greatsword into a rising counter-cut before slamming it back down, both cleaving and pulverizing the skittering little drone. Each movement she made carried a weighted, deliberate purpose; both graceful, yet charged with such volatile energy that only darker, tumultuous emotions could bring forth. It was different than when she bore the axe of her father. Her movements were driven with a channeled passion rather than simple rage-fueled savagery.

"Twelve be damned." One of the witnesses to the destruction dropped the words from his mouth like a dribble of spit. The rumors about the woman he was watching batter a path through the hall were certainly credible, and at the same time were vastly lacking in detail. He simply stood dumbfounded in the middle of the hall, unable to approach the frontline that Reeza had drawn with the corpses of machines.

"Don't stand there gawking-" Another adventure pushed forcibly past the supposed pugilist blocking the path, snapping off a arquebus shot at one of the skittering contraptions that had tried to strike at Reeza's flank. The Miqo'te machinist glared back at the pugilist who still stared like a dullard instead of doing the job he was hired for.

For Reeza, it was just business as usual. Escorting explorers and scrap collectors through the halls of the ruined Azyx La was just one way of earning her keep; and it was certainly far more preferable fighting things that held no life to begin with than cutting down other sentient beings.

That damnable voice that resonated from the soul crystal scoffed at Reeza's thought. What was battle without bloodshed? Violence wielded as a tool for gain, no matter how just the cause, was still _violence_. It spoke in her mind with that grin born of preeminent arrogance- _everything_ had a price.

Reeza took that vile feeling of hypocrisy that stewed in her gut from their little exchange and pulled it forth, channeling that negativity into her arms. She cut another wide arc, trying to clip as many of the damnable little machines as she could, leaving her side open as the swing finished. As expected, a little machine lunged at this gap in her defence, only to be met with Reeza's open palm held out from beneath her arm. A concentrated jet of magic, charged by that negativity, erupted forth, scalding even the Allagan alloy that the machine was made of. Another construct lashed out as she diverted her attentions for that moment, though a quick twist of the greatsword exposing the wide flat of the blade. It made a decent enough shield to parry with, though there was always a feeling of guilt using it in such a crude manner. There were too many to dispatch with single attacks without exposing herself.

"Enough of this." Reeza grunted beneath her helm, anger swelling at the simple hesitancy of her supposed Adventurer's Guild cohorts. With that growing spark of frustration, her movements refined, a new strength and force was thrown behind every swing of her blade. Each screech of claws off her armor, each battering attempting to take her off balance, every little damn irritating twitchy movement of these stupid little machines fueled the coming storm. If her cohorts were in the way, then their own stupidity would damn them.

Reeza swung wide again, a full circle this time as she pushed that anger and vitriol forth from her darker side and into her arms. The blade itself smashed and battered as its energy shrieked through anything unfortunate enough to be in its path, but that was not the end of the strike. The dam of power in Reeza's core had opened one of its many valves; the aether of her being roaring outward as emotion manifested into physicality with magic.

It was a blinding burst of crimson, as if the air around her _exploded_ with pure virulence. It tore through the constructs, shattering limbs at their joints and twisting fragile parts with heat and raw energy. The magic flowed free within her once again as her vast reserves replenished, to which Reeza gladly tapped into one more time. Without giving the machines a moment of reprieve, she brought he greatsword straight down as if to try and cleave a mountain in half. Another burst of unadulterated rancor ripped a passage through the center of the hallway, blasting aside anything that had been unfortunate enough to be in the way.

When all was said and done, nothing that had stood before Reeza's onslaught moved anymore.

It was in that moment of stillness that Reeza realize how labored her breathing was. The washes of white magic throughout the fight had been holding back the tide of pain and exhaustion- for which she was certainly thankful for- but it was high time for a small breather.

"We've been at this for a while." Reeza had spun to the three behind her, lifting her visor to peer out over them with her piecing green irises, "Doors are secure, small breather."

It was clear to the rest of the party; her words were not a request. The machinist seemed more than happy enough, taking to picking through the scraps were left in their wake. The pugilist as well, simply shrugged those broad shoulders of his with a grin.

"M-Miss Cereeza?" The white mage, as meek as he was, had stepped forward to check on the one that had placed her body before the rest of them.

"Hm? Telle was it?" Reeza sank the tip of her greatsword into the steel floor until the mass of the blade stood on its own. She fussed with her helmet as the raven-haired boy moved carefully through the debris towards her. He had hid himself beneath his massive white hood when they had been introduced, but through the struggle of battle or the heat of the ruin's innards, he had pulled the thing down.

"Y-yes. Um-" He was no older than sixteen or seventeen summers, barely a babe in comparison to Reeza, even if they were only but a few summers apart. To a boy such as he, Reeza was practically a eikon herself if her exploits were to be believed. "You said you have been through here before? Were these machines…"

"Yes, they always come back." Reeza motioned to scraps their Miqo'te cohort was picking through, "Whatever isn't hauled out by adventurers is most likely repaired or reused by whatever still runs this place."

The young white mages' eyes were not on the Allagan machines, but the massive triangular greatsword that Reeza wielded with such ease. It was not just _any_ sword that an adventure could get their hands on, so the boy's awe and envy were justifiably obvious.

' _He's looking at m-me!?'_ The spirit of the weapon spoke in Reeza's mind with the soft tone of a young girl, and the hardened adventurer couldn't help but smile when she heard it.

' _Yes, child. Not many get to see a Zodiac Brave in front of their very eyes_.'

' _I sense that… he wants to see closer? Can he, Reeza!? Please? Oh we don't get to meet such polite people in Ishgard-'_

When her Animus begged in such a manner, all of the fire had left Reeza's inner furnace. Images of pleading, puppy-dog eyes always tugged at her spirit in such a manner- perhaps the reason why the Animus used such tactics was because it so intimately knew Reeza's spirit.

"Go ahead, she only bites those I swing her at." Reeza motioned for the boy to have his moment to fawn over Cronus as she freed her head of that damnable Ishgardian steel helm. Finally able to breathe cool air, Reeza had begun to fix the tight bun of her hair when the third member of their little party had slinked his way before her.

Highlander, young- not a refugee from Gyr Abania like her father had been. One of her generation born to Eorzea. The man had joined in this little adventuring mission under the pretense of becoming stronger, though he hadn't done much of _anything_ aside from throw a few nearly ineffectual punches and kicks. It was enough to raise concern- Reeza had met adventurers skilled in the way of fist and they were a fare bit deadlier than anything that this man had displayed thus far.

"Wouldn't expect a Hyur woman capable of that." The man had a big, oaf-like grin on his face as he sat on one of the shattered machines across from Reeza, eyeing her frame and face.

He certainly had some semblance of a point, as backwards and near off-target as it was. Reeza was lithe, even in her suit of armor. Despite its bulk, there was still a contour to her hips and her waist that was reflected in the armor. Given all the visual facts, it was quite clear that there was a woman underneath all the plate. The fact that the armorer had turned the chest-piece into a figurative corset to accentuate this had irked at her as well, but such an eccentric tradeoff for fine craftsmanship was a thing that the ever pragmatic Reeza could deal with.

What she _couldn't_ deal with was the constant assumption that one had to be burly and muscle-threaded to use such armor. Even more irksome was the opinion that some Eorzeans held that a woman adventurer was better suited to back-line duty.

"Well, I'm half Abanian." Reeza spoke nonchalantly. The Beast had well up in her chest, gnashing and growling to be set loose on this sad excuse for a man, but Reeza kept a disinterested frown furrowing her normally soft brow. People had often told her that she had two faces; soft and beautiful when she was at ease, but as hard and terrifying as a banshee's visage when she was angered.

Reeza believed she had a third; an awkward, confusingly twisted thing when she was trying so desperately to be civil. Like right now.

"Ah, explains the height." The 'pugilist' stood once more, holding his hand above his head as if to compare their height as he stepped more into her space. Reeza was as tall as he, certainly, but that was about where their comparison could end.

' _Especially in terms of usefulness…'_

' _W-what? I'm… I-I'm-'_ The voice of her Animus seemed on the verge of crying.

' _Not you, little one.'_ Reeza cooed to the spirit, her irritation momentarily defused. It was one of the reasons why she was so thankful for it's constant presence.

"The sabatons add an ilm or two." Despite the inner conversation coinciding with her verbal one, Reeza remained unflinching on the outside. Shrugging the pugilist's interest off, she instead turning to the other woman in the party, the Miqo'te.

"Did you find anything you needed?"

"Well, the Allagan power sources are vastly different to the cores we use in our-"

"So no?"

The whole reason Reeza had come back to this perverted menagerie was at _this_ machinists request. If it were _anyone_ else, she would had outright refused the task- whenever Allag was involved, one could expect some sort of Calamity-esque plot not to far behind. It was better to leave the ancients where they lie than risk uncovering something world-ending. That… and the sooner the machinist got what they needed, the sooner Reeza could leave the suffocatingly smug presence of this so-called-pugilist.

"W-whoa!"

The startled cry of the white mage had instinctively put Reeza on guard, her refreshed magic coursing violently to her hands. The boy had stumbled back, falling on his rear before the sword he was inspecting. The unholy, violet light of the blade had burned to life, the runes along its fuller practically dripping with a crimson pigment that had not been there moments earlier. The spirit of the Cronus had sparked to life.

' _I'm sorry- I got excited when he spoke about me in such kind words.'_

The others watched as Reeza strode to her sword, gently placing a hand atop the pommel as one would pat the head of a child.

"Worry not, little one." Reeza quietly cooed to the blade. A warmth washed through her, a relaxing confidence that could cast away any feelings of anxiety of uncertainty. With _this_ blade in hand, she could rewrite fates. As such, it was her revered partner, one worthy of the utmost respect.

"We should move on. You kind of… did a number on these." The machinist sighed, unceremoniously dropping what she had been inspecting as if it were nothing but a handful of rocks.

"Are you saying I should take it _easier_ on them?" Reeza smiled back, though there was a sharpness to her gaze that spoke to the impossibility of such a ludicrous thought.

The Miqo'te's face had pulled into a pragmatic grin, exposing those fang-like canines for a moment. She had worked with Reeza before, and knew that the daughter of Light herself _always_ put the whole of her being into a task. Even though this was the machinist's mission, Reeza very much was in charge of the expedition now.

"The next hall most likely will be more dangerous." Reeza sighed, staring at her helmet with a sudden urge to kick the damnable thing away. The next series of chambers were all-the-more-reason to put the suffocating thing back on.

"We'll stay a little closer then." The white mage, in all of his timidness, seemed the slightest bit more determined once he had seen the supposed source of Reeza's strength first-hand.

"You better pull your weight this time around." The growl was directed at the pugilist, though Reeza didn't care if the man responded. It was clear that, between herself, the white mage, and the machinist, the task would be accomplished and the pugilist could go on his own way.

People like that tended to die out of their own laziness or greed, it was only a matter of time.

And then his blood wouldn't be on her hands.

"Precious light, be our armor to protect us!"

With a burst of white magic, Reeza watched through her vision slit as a interlocking grid of translucent, sky blue plates formed as a shield around her and the rest of their group. She gave the white mage Telle an approving nod as she pulled Cronus from its makeshift scabbard in the floor.

"Onward then." Hefting the blade upon her shoulder, the daughter of Light pushed through the next doorway with an airs of confidence that only a seasoned veteran could hold.

The eclipse of her father was inevitable.


End file.
